When I Find You, You're Dead
by XStrawberryTongueX
Summary: Five years after the death of the Archdemon and being crowned King of Ferelden, and Alistair is still searching for the girl he left behind. When he finds her, the reunion is far different from what he expected. Alistair/Amell,Violence, Cursing, Sex


[Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age: Origins, BioWare does. And thank the Maker they made this game. This is made purely for enjoyment, both for me and anyone who happens to enjoy reading this.]

_Characters may be a bit OOC, because this is after five years, and their personality could change. This is how I view them then. I am using my Mage character, Manako Amell, for this fanfic. This is not a long story… maybe three, four chapters. Reviews make me feel loved. Just letting you all know. Title inspired by the song "When I'm Home, You're So Dead". It's not relevant to the story in any way, though. The song is pretty kickass, however :)  
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* * *

__Five years. Five fucking years._

Alistair roughly ran a hand through his dirty blond locks, a habit he picked up since he became king of Ferelden. He sat on the side of his bed, fully clothed in the glamorous clothes the best seamstresses made specifically for him. His elbows rested on his knees, his head hung down, brown eyes staring blankly at the ground.

_Five years and I still remember her._

Of course he'd still remember her. How could he _ever_ forget her?

_She's probably forgotten about me. Funny, but for some reason that thought makes me even sadder._

Alistair pressed both of his large hands to the sides of his head and quickly ruffled his hair, growling in aggravation. Deciding that taking his anger out on his hair wouldn't change anything, Alistair stopped with his foolish action. But _damn it,_ did he feel like a bastard right now. Letting out a strangled sigh, Alistair threw his body backwards, his back landing on the soft mattress of his bed. He blinked his long eyelashes quickly, staring at the high twenty foot white ceiling of his room.

It was blank, just like how he wished his mind was. But it was filled with images of Manako. _His_… well, ok, she wasn't exactly _his. _But she should've been his.

_If I wasn't such a coward before._

Alistair let out a long string of curses that would've made Oghren cry tears of pride.

_I need to get out of this place._

Yes, get away from the Royal Palace, the very place their relationship ended, where once she killed the arch demon and requested in the Royal Halls that he allow Mages to practice their magic without the Chantry and Templars over-watching them (to which he gave his word that he would make it so), she turned her back swiftly and walked away without so much as a curt good-bye nod.

* * *

The door of the king's room slammed open, hitting one of the guards straight in the nose.

"Sweet Andraste!" the middle aged guard clutched his now bleeding nose and slowly fell to the floor, the armor clanking when it touched the ground.

"Ser Bryan!" the other younger guard exclaimed, eyes widening.

Alistair whipped his head around and immediately dropped his pack. He quickly knelt in front of Bryan, raising up his arms, palms out.

"Ser Bryan! By the Maker- are you all right?" Alistair asked, concern all over his face. "I am so sorry. I-I didn't mean-"

"No, mi lord," Bryan said softly, his voice nasally and strained because he was clutching it so tightly with his hand. "Tis alright. I-I suppose.." his breath hitched and he doubled over, coughing.

Alistair gently put his large hands on the man's shoulders and slowly brought him up to a standing position.

"Mordick," Alistair looked to his left at the other guard, who throughout all this was frozen in his spot. "Please, I need to leave quickly. Take Bryan and bring him into my room and lay him on my bed. Then go and get a healer to fix his nose."

"W-wait.." Mordick blinked as he gently brought his shoulders around Bryan, letting the man lean on him. "Wh-where are you g-going, mi lord?"

Alistair silently ushered for the men to go into his room, and they complied. Once Bryan was laid gently onto the bed, Alistair spoke.

"I am going to the Circle Tower. And no, it's not some official trip," Alistair said quickly when he saw Mordick open his mouth to speak. The young guard silently shut his mouth. "I just.." Alistair sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Wish _she_ was there?" Mordick completed the king's sentence for him.

Alistair could only imagine the face he made that made the young man burst out laughing.

"Ah.. ah, ahaha.." the man continued to laugh, even whilst Bryan was lying in pan right next to him, blood still dripping from his nose down his cheek and mouth, and eventually his neck and down onto the overpriced silk sheets of the bed.

"Well," Alistair coughed, trying to look composed, and failing miserably. "I am glad you find this all to be funny."

"I-I am s-sorry, mi lord," slowly, his laughter died down, but a broad grin remained. "But you have become far too predictable when it comes to _her_, if you don't mind me being so bold as to say so."

Almost against his will, the corner of Alistair's mouth twitched up. Right when Alistair became King of Ferelden, Mordick and Bryan were the first two guards he met, stationed by his bedroom door. They were both purely formal to him at first, but over the years he developed an informal relationship with them. Alistair spent much time going in and out of his room (and only about half the time was for more –ahem- intimate matters, mind you) and always, they would be there, day and night. At first, he thought them to be two simple thick bodied guards meant to scare away anyone thinking of ever setting one toe past his doorstep, but whenever any assassination attempts were made, they showed their skill, courage and loyalty to him by swiftly taking out any and all assassins (and simple intruders) and never making a fuss out of it. Alistair was impressed with them, to say the least. Alistair was still a laid back and kind man, so he conversed with them any chance he could (which would be any time he wished since he was, after all, the king) and in only a year they all called themselves friends. Of course, they were all mature to still maintain the guard-king relationship, but even the nobles and servants could see their evident friendship. Many times Alistair offered to post them somewhere else as higher ranking guards, but every time they refused.

"_We want to stay by your side. Both as your loyal guards… and.. as your friends,"_ they had said.

If Alistair wasn't such a manly man, he would have wept right there. Actually, a little tear bead appeared in the corner of his eye, but thank the Maker they didn't notice. Or, if they did, they didn't say anything. They were cunning and devious like that.

"Yes," his throat was burning and his mouth dry when he gave that simple reply. "I still think about her any time my mind is allowed to wander. Actually," he twisted a short strand of dirty blond hair between his thumb and index finger, "every time I realize I'm king I think of her." After all, she was the reason they won the Landsmeet and the nobles accepted him as the new king.

At that, Mordick snorted. Alistair felt a little offended at it, and his expression showed as much, for the young man quickly apologized.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to-" he closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, Alistair could tell he already composed himself, and stood straighter for what was to come. The man was like Alistair in this way: he could be funny at one moment but shock you with his seriousness the next. "Alright, let's do this one more time. Good luck to you, mi lord," he gave a curt nod, far too formal for Alistair's liking. "May your trip be a meaningful one."

Alistair cocked his head to the side and slowly narrowed his eyes.

"You bastard," he whispered, "you just _love_ to make me feel uncomfortable."

In a flash, a toothy grin broke out on Mordick's face.

"Yes, mi lord, I do. A lot."

Alistair shook his head as he chuckled.

"Alright, alright. I can take a hint." Alistair held up his hands in defeat. Clearly Mordick thought that every moment he spent lingering in the castle meant that she could be slipping away from him. Manako formed a habit of traveling a lot, Alistair realized as he got several notices of people seeing a woman matching her description appearing all over Ferelden. It was very hard to follow her, or any other mage for that matter, for as soon as it was made official that the Chantry would have no hold over the tower, Irving had declared that every single phylactery be destroyed; Manako's was the first to go. But Alistair knew Manako, very well. He knew she would always come back to the Circle, and reports from Irving told him she did so frequently. So the Circle was always his first stop on one of his trips. If he didn't leave now for the Circle, he might miss her by a heartbeat, and she'd be long gone in the next. "Make sure I don't come back to the castle either burned to the ground, crush beneath the ground, or running rampant with whores."

_Like last time._

Mordick put on his most serious face and gave the king a thumbs up.

"You know it, mi lord."

* * *

"Ah, Alistair," Irving spoke in his gruff but wise voice, his usually half-lidded eyes lighting up.

He spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, and they all turned to look at him, expressions ranging from fear to awe to… the kind of looks young girls usually gave him. Every single person in the room, excluding him, was a mMage, and that made Alistair more than a little uncomfortable. He was no longer.. well, he never _was _a Templar, but his training still made him feel uneasy around Mages. It made him scared shitless, in fact. He shifted from foot to foot, using every single skill he picked up to make himself seem calm. But Irving, as Manako related to him during their travels, didn't become First Enchanter by keeping his eyes and ears closed. His dark eyes twinkled knowingly.

"How about you come with me," he stretched out his arm. "We can talk in my office."

Alistair moved out of the room so quickly it looked like he teleported. Irving chuckled and addressed the Mages, voice firm.

"Please, return to your business. And," the man paused, and this time his voice was low, "do _not_ say _anything_." He didn't need to say anymore. He could tell from the way the other Mages' eyes softened and their stances relaxed that they knew exactly what he was talking about. Knowing he had their word, he turned around and made way to his office.

The door closed softly behind Irving, barely making a sound. The old man looked up to see the King of Ferelden looking around his room, and he could barely retain his smile.

"I decorated my room some since you last came for a visit."

"Yes.." Alistair breathed out, still in awe with the many breathtaking paintings plastered over the walls and the unique artifacts resting in display cabinets. "You seem to have had a lot of time on your hands."

The First Enchanter chuckled.

"More than I wish I did. But, alas," the man sighed.

A tiny smile made its way onto the Alistair's face. He came over to the tower many times after he gave the Mages their freedom, and Irving didn't hold back to show him how grateful he was. The man was actually rather laid back and humorous for his age, which made him easy to get along with. In time, they became close friends. In many ways, Irving was like a second father to him, right alongside Eamon. And Alistair enjoyed the fact that the man had a lot of free time since the Tower became restored: it meant he had a lot of time to spend with Alistair. Yes, he was selfish. He was the King, shut up.

"So, Alistair.." Irving's voice trailed off and he looked at Alistair, awaiting the response he already knew was coming.

Alistair decided to be blunt.

"Yes, Irving," he sighed, voice low. "I was hoping Manako would be here."

A brief pause, then: "I see." The old man looked thoughtful, and Alistair's stomach churned. The man was far too cunning for his good, and it scared Alistair whenever he looked like he was going over some devious plot in his head. "Say, Alistair.." he paused to rub his long beard. "…how about you spend the night here?"

Alistair's eyebrows shot up. Spend the night. In a tower full of Mages. Powerful Mages that, when they slept, could accidentally slip a spell that could somehow find its way to him in his room and then set his ass on fire. Or, they could become abominations and those things could make its way to his room and devour him. His hand twitched at the thought.

Irving laughed, seeing the clear terror on the young King's face, and Alistair stopped thinking about his imminent death if he stayed here to realize that he's never heard the man laugh. Chuckle, maybe, but not laugh.

"No worries, my dear child." Irving was definitely like a father to him; even his friend-guards, Mordick and Bryan addressed him as 'mi lord' or any other variation of that. Irving didn't bother, always treating him like he was the simple Grey Warden he met in the same tower years ago. "You're perfectly safe here. And if anything were to happen to you, I would make sure your body be kept pristine until the people over in Denerim come to collect it for the funeral."

Oh yes, that made him feel _so much_ better.

"Come," Irving outstretched his arm and flicked his wrist, beckoning for Alistair.

The King silently followed him, a feeling of dread in his stomach. Something interesting was going to happen this night, he was sure of it.

* * *

_Food. _

Alistair's body jerked straight up, thin white sheets falling down and pooling around his hip.

_Food. Now._

His stomach growled a command and his body moved automatically, arms pushing aside the bed sheets and legs gliding over the edge of the bed to land on the cold marble floor of his room. They moved, quickly and silently across the room to the door. His hand reached out to twist the knob and he moved out to the hallway, not bothering to close the door.

The Tower added a large kitchen when it got redone, and Alistair being, well, Alistair, drilled into his mind where the location of it was. He could find his way to it in his sleep from anywhere in the Tower… kind of like he was doing now.

His mind was too blank to realize how long it took for him to get there, but he knew he was there when his nostrils sniffed up the smell of cheese.

_Mmmm, cheeeeeese._

He was still so sleepy that his mind didn't even question why he smelled cheese when it was usually kept inside a closed ice box (more like a room to him, actually). He also didn't even realize it was open right now, with a person standing in front of it, munching on said cheese. Actually, he didn't even realize there was another person in the kitchen as he made way for the ice, using the cheesy smell as his guide. Apparently the person standing with it's back to him didn't notice the king either, for he came crashing hard into said person.

"What the fu-" a voice sounded in his ear, loud, loud enough to make his head snap up and eyes widen, now suddenly awake.

"Wha-" the young king blinked, and as soon as his vision finally saw what was there, he immediately flinched at the blinding light emitting from the inside of the very cold room. He hissed as he rubbed his eyes then blinked a few more times before wiping away the small tears that formed around the corners of his eyes. "Why is the-" finally, he looked away from the light to see the person standing near it, and Alistair felt his eyes widen and mouth hang open.

The entire tower was silent, which made the beating of Alistair's heart sound unbearably loud. Standing in front of him was the woman he'd spent years looking for, holding in her small hands a large cheese wedge that had been chewed on at the ends. The yellowish-white light shining on her caramel skin and ebony hair made them glow, and randomly Alistair's mind became flooded with the time he first met her, the bright sun illuminating her in the same way the light was now. Her turquoise eyes seemed brighter; even the two dark colored tattoos around her eyes shone, and it wasn't until Alistair really looked at her face as a whole that he realized they, too, were widened like his, though her mouth was simply parted and not hanging wide open like his. At that thought, he hastily closed his mouth, teeth clanking and mouth stinging from the sudden impact.

It took a few more moments of silent gaping until Alistair spoke.

"Manako," he breathed out, and he was amazed at himself that he could speak at all. Years of standing in front of court and dealing with the noble's quick and shrewd remarks allowed Alistair to recover quickly in any situation if he willed himself to, and he was glad this was no exception.

Which was more than he could say for her, since she was still staring, bottom lip slightly quivering. The cheese wedge fell from her hands to land on the floor. Somewhere deep inside, he cried for the poor cheese.

"A-A-" her mouth didn't move as she tried to say his name. She seemed less shocked than he did at their sudden meeting, but she didn't recover nearly as fast as he did.

"Alistair?" he grinned, sounding his name for her, as if that would help her pronounce it and lighten the mood.

It didn't seem to do the trick, for her full pink lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. Seeing that, Alistair straightened, grin gone, face now serious as he looked down at his almost lover. Okay, so this is no time for jokes. All business. He got it. He could do business, what with five years of doing it every single day.

For a long time, they both stood there, looking at each other, expressions giving nothing away. The cool air from the refrigerator burned at Alistair's cold skin. He could see that though Manako stood still, her body was shaking, just ever so slightly. Most people wouldn't notice, but Alistair has done a lot of staring at her to now be able to really _see_ her. Was it from the cold, or something else, he didn't know. He wished it was the latter. Maybe it was good to have an advantage over her, to know that she didn't become hard as a rock during the five years they didn't see each other, though he did.

But even so, Alistair knew he could crumble easily. If she did something like, oh, _spoke a single word to him_, he might falter and end up falling on his knees and begging her to come back to him and-

"Alistair."

His chest heaved behind the thin green tunic he was wearing and he blinked. He waited for her to say something else. She spoke again.

"It's-"

"Been a long time since you left me?" He spoke quickly, and was shocked; one that he was rude enough to cut off her words, and two at how angry he sounded. Maybe he was angry right now. He didn't know, his mind too focused on her to focus on him right now. "Yeah, it has," he finished, voice still sounding rough and, yes, angry.

Something flickered in her eyes, something Alistair could have read had it lasted longer than a millisecond. The corner of her mouth twitched. But she didn't say anything. Then she edged away from the large metal door and Alistair's hand quickly went up to grab her arm, holding it tightly.

_You're not getting away from me._

She didn't even flinch._  
_

"I'm only closing the door. All the ice in the room is freezing me." She spoke, softly but firmly, head dropping down to look at the floor.

That was when he realized that Manako's hair, once but down to just right at her shoulders, was longer. Much longer. She had front bangs now, cut to cover her left eye, but the rest of her hair was now down to her mid-back, and cut into stylish layers. It still appeared to look thick and silky smooth.

Slowly nodding, Alistair backed away to let her close the door, but he didn't dare let go of his grip on her arm. Once the door closed, they were enfolded in darkness, and his eyes burned at the sudden lack of light.

And that was when he felt it. Two large _squishy things _pushing against his chest.

_Breasts?_

From his experience with them, that was what it felt like. Then he felt an arm wrapping around his neck. Next was something flat yet still feeling round (a stomach?) then something long pushing itself between his thighs (her legs?). Then came the soft feeling of, yes, it was her _lips_, he could tell from several moments of kissing them back, on his. The darkness removed his eyesight, which made his touch sense doubly sensitive. He could feel her slightly chapped lips and the wet saliva inside her mouth as it suck on his lower lip.

And then he was falling backwards, he realized. On instinct, he tried to regain his balance, pressing his feet firmly on the marble floor, but he felt pressure. Was Manako pushing them both to the floor? She succeeded, for a grunt left his mouth as his back hit the floor roughly, and his back arched at the sudden pain. When Alistair grunted, Manako took that chance to bite down on his lip, and this time a moan escaped from his lips. Even in this situation, he was aroused. His hand was still gripping her arm, so he let it go to wrap both his arms around her waist, then letting them trail down her, as he was shocked but still excited to realize, bare thigh.

He had no idea what happened, since it was all so sudden, but Andraste's ass, if this was Manako's way of making things up, he was going to take it. They could talk later, after all. When his libido died down and he could actually get a good look at her.

Alistair didn't realize just how much exactly he missed kissing Manako, but it must have been a lot he realized now, for his tongue pushed harshly into her mouth and it danced wildly, making saliva spill out from both of their mouths. Hands gripped his hair roughly, and Alistair groaned into the kiss.

Then the hands left his head- his entire body actually. He felt the body on top of his move, twisting around, and he thought she was using her hands to remove her clothing.

Fine with him. He could've done that himself, but now he could use his hands to run along her thighs and buttocks, squeezing their firmness. It was good to know she didn't let herself go all these years.

Then Alistair's now sensitive hearing heard a clank. An excruciatingly loud one, right next to him. It made his ears sting and his body jerked upwards harshly. He moved back, mouth leaving the woman's on top of him, and he twisted his head to where he heard the noise.

"What was that?" he asked through the darkness, head throbbing. He thought his ears might have been bleeding.

Manako didn't answer, simply moved a bit more.

"Manako-"

Something cold and hard hit his face. It hit him hard, very hard. Before he could register what happened, he felt the back of his neck hit the floor, and suddenly he was very dizzy. And in pain, lots of it. Alistair coughed and tried to heave himself up, to get away from whatever it was, to _defend himself_ before-

It came at him again, even harder this time.

It literally knocked the breath out of him, because he couldn't even grunt or yelp. What in Andraste's name was happening! His arms instinctively shot up to cover his face, which he felt slick liquid (blood?) flowing down, but they were grabbed by small hands (Manako's?) and roughly pulled away, and then whatever the _hell_ was hitting him before hit him again. The texture was so cold it _burned_ him.

This time he could hear the cracking of bones being broken. Was Manako _hitting _him? And if she was, with what? Actually, why in the Maker was she hitting him! Alistair felt more blood drip down his face, then he felt the body on top of him move away. It was stupid, but his arms stretched upwards, trying to grab onto her, but she must have moved too far from him. He couldn't think straight right now, and he was losing a lot of blood, no doubt. Alistair had taken many blows to his body before, but rarely did he ever get hit in the face. And not like this. Not while he's blind and still _horny_.

"Manako…" it was barely able to leave his mouth, and now Alistair tasted copper in his mouth, whereas before he felt hot saliva and cheese.

Footsteps, he heard, were moving away from him, but they didn't get louder. She wasn't stepping over him, instead being careful and walking all the way around the kitchen to get to the door. Alistair was too weak, too blind, too hurt (emotionally or physically?) to do anything

She was taking it too far. Way too far. Did she really not want to see him _this_ badly? When did she learn to swing her arm down like that? Mages weren't trained in hand-to-hand combat.

"I _never_ wanted to see you again."

Alistair's ear twitched at the sound of Manako's voice, loud, so loud, amongst the darkness. He tried to move his body, but now found that he couldn't.

Paralysis spell? Most likely.

_What a way this ended._

Alistair tried to swallow to quench his now dry throat, but found his mouth was dry, even with the blood in it.

_Oh, you're not getting away from this, _Alistair thought dryly. His back arched for a second and then he let out a long, harsh cough. He felt blood spilling from his mouth to stick to his chin. His body trembled when the cough resided._ Nope. Not now, Manako. Not now.  
_

Seeing no reason to keep his eyes open, Alistair closed them. He let out a soft, long sigh. Might as well try to fall asleep. Someone will find him sooner or later. No doubt Manako already left, since he heard faint footsteps fade away. The last thing he remembered was the smell of copper and cheese.

* * *

_Author's note:_

_Yeah, my Manako is pretty crazy. But I still love her... kind of. I'm not sure whether I should think she's a bitch for going that far or try to justify her. I'll think it over. Hopefully you guys still enjoyed it.. even though this probably isn't how you pictured the Amell character to be like. But seriously, no way would I make them make up that quickly. Pshaw.  
_

_Thanks to **Lavinia Luscious** for letting me know there weren't any refrigerators back then, but something called an "ice box". It helped me tons.  
_

_If you see any errors, feel free to let me know._

_Again, reviews make me feel loved. Just saying._


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